


What You Can't Have

by icandrawamoth



Series: Phichuuri Week [6]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Gen, I Don't Even Know, Implied Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, M/M, POV Phichit Chulanont, Past Relationship(s), Phichuuri Week, Pictures, Pining, episode 10, kinda? idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 06:26:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11156133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: When Chris shows Phichit the pictures of Yuuri from the Sochi banquet, it only reminds him of what he used to have and hasn't completely let go of.





	What You Can't Have

**Author's Note:**

> For Phichuuri Week week day six prompt "pole dancing." If this not-really-a-relationship-idk counts...

As they walk away from the restaurant, JJ yelling behind them, Phichit barely sees the street in front of him: his mind's eye is still focused on the picture Chris flashed him of Yuuri at the banquet. It doesn't surprise Phichit that Yuuri would be able to do that physically with the amount of training he's constantly doing, but that he _would_? Clearly he missed out by never getting him drunk in college.

The Japanese skater's face is still burning as their group says their goodnights and wanders off in pairs. Phichit and Chris head toward the hotel together, taking the long way to enjoy more of the sights of Barcelona.

But when Phichit still hasn't actually seen anything but his phantom visions of Yuuri a few minutes later, he finds himself asking, “Can I see those pictures?”

“Hmm?” Chris asks as he looks at him. Then his a devilish smiling overtakes him. “Ah, the ones of Yuuri and me? Of course you'd want to see more of those.” He winks and pulls his phone out, swiping a few times before handing it to Phichit. “Knock yourself out, _mon ami_.”

Phichit slowly scrolls through the pictures, his eyes growing wider with each one. Yuuri on the ground, holding himself up with one arm as his shirt falls down to reveal his toned stomach. Several rather innocent ones of Yuuri holding Victor in what looks like a waltz. The dance-off between Yuuri and Yuri. Two of Chris in nothing but his underwear practically making love to the pole.

The other man looks over his shoulder, grinning. “Those are my favorites. I look hot, right?”

Phichit snorts, flips to the next picture – and stops short. This is one is just Yuuri, down to his shirt, underwear, and socks, one hand on the pole, clearly in the process of a swing. His legs bend gracefully, bare from thigh to ankle, and Phichit can't stop staring. Yuuri's skin is pale and smooth, the strong muscles in his thighs standing out as he moves. “Wow,” Phichit breathes without meaning to.

“Ah, it wasn't me you wanted to see after all,” Chris says mildly. He plucks the phone from Phichit's hand, and the Thai tries not to let out a sound of disappointment. Not that he'll ever forget that vision of Yuuri as long as he lives. “I'll send this to you, if you want,” Chris tells him, and his innocence is very badly feigned.

Phichit's cheeks are burning, but the words he mutters are an affirmative.

Chris laughs as his fingers play across the phone, and Phichit refuses to reach for his when the alert goes off. No, he isn't _that_ desperate, thank you very much.

“Does our Yuuri know you like to look at him in his underwear?” Chris asks they reach the hotel.

Phichit sighs loudly, feeling nothing but dirty. “Probably. I used to see him like that all the time back when we were in school.”

Chris raises an eyebrow playfully. “Do tell.”

“I'd rather not.” Phichit is grateful when they step into an elevator and are the only ones. He sighs again. “We dated for awhile but decided we were better as friends. It was mutual, but...”

Chris pats his shoulder sympathetically. “You miss it.”

“Yeah.”

Chris's hold on him tightens. “Come to my room and I can do something to help you with that.”

Phichit smiles just a little. “Thanks, but maybe another time.”

“Suit yourself.”

They reach their floor and part ways. Phichit lets himself into his room without bothering to turn on the light. For a long time, he sits on the bed staring at the picture. Knowing he shouldn't but unable to bring himself to stop.

After awhile, his phone dings again, and it's a text from Chris. _This won't help like you want it to._ There are photo attachments, and Phichit opens them to find more pictures of Yuuri. Two are from the banquet, no more or less dirty than the one Phichit is already fixated on. The third is a candid taken that night at the restaurant, Yuuri sitting close to his fiance, wearing the look of horror he'd had upon finding out about his antics in Sochi. Victor looks amused, but also concerned and protective, leaning close to Yuuri.

Phichit flicks his phone off and throws it onto the bed. Chris was right, that didn't help at all.


End file.
